


The Night We Met

by deanlovescastielswormstache



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2019-02-17 06:33:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13071138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deanlovescastielswormstache/pseuds/deanlovescastielswormstache
Summary: Grantaire needs inspiration, and Enjolras provides it. Tumblr prompt.





	The Night We Met

It had been a long day in the art studio. Grantaire dug his paint-flecked hands further into the warmth of his pockets, wishing he had warmer clothing on when inspiration had struck him. But he hadn’t been able to help it. He just had the urge to translate some emotion he could not name into art. And so he had left without looking outside, barely remembering to grab his keys on his way out. And now Grantaire was paying for his inspirations, though he hardly thought that seemed fair. 

He wished that inspiration translated easily into practice, but alas it did not. He had spent all day in his cramped studio, frantically trying to convey his emotions in various mediums: oils, clay, charcoal, sketches. Nothing had worked. He hated everything he produced. It was just as well. This was the first time he had a genuine rush of inspiration in months and wasn’t a random commission. And he’d managed to waste it. He harrumphed, nestling his head further down into his thin scarf, trying to gain some reprieve from the wind that was bringing tears to his eyes. Grantaire maintained eye contact with the ground, watching his feet wander the cobblestones of Paris. 

He stopped by the Cafe Musain on his way home, hoping for something that would warm him and lift his spirits. It was quiet this time of day, few people bustling through, just the occasional table occupied by a quiet patron, studying, doing the crossword, typing away on their laptops or scribbling through various pieces of paper. Grantaire ordered a drink, too tired to flirt with the barista before he took his normal seat. It was tucked in the corner, where almost no one bothered to sit. He could observe the whole Cafe from here. It was ideal for people watching and sketching, which is part of the reason he liked the Musain so much. He pulled his sketch pad out, figuring he might as well see if a change in environment would help him fulfill at least something so his whole day hadn’t been a waste. 

That’s when Grantaire saw him. A young man was illuminated by a ray of light that shone through the window, catching glints of his golden curls. Grantaire hadn’t even noticed the sun was out. This person was breath-taking; like a sculpture come to life. His red coat fit him just right, and the white collar beneath it was ruffled just enough to not be careless, it was a work of art in it of itself. His nimble figures paused from scribbling notes, a furrow creasing his brow that only enhanced the beauty of his elegant features. His hand reached for his coffee haphazardly, but with a grace that had Grantaire breathless. 

Grantaire didn’t even realize that he was moving. He blinked, and he was standing before him. The man didn’t move for a heartbeat, and it was the longest moment of his life. He raised his eyes to look at Grantaire, and he was hit by the full force of this man’s gaze. His blue eyes were piercing, as if filled by some light that could not just be the sunbeam coming through the window. Grantaire had never see such extraordinary eyes. “Can I draw you?” 

The man started visibly; that had clearly not been what he thought Grantaire would say. How the  _fuck_  did this man manage to make confused look so attractive? Grantaire internally groaned.  _Nice going, R. Scare the man off. Be a creep._  He shook his head, taking a deep breath and trying again. 

“Cross that. Don’t answer that.” Grantaire laughed nervously, scrubbing his hand through his hair. He wished he was coming at this with a fresh mind, and not eight straight hours in the studio. He would look like less of a maniac that way. “Let’s start with normal things. Hello. My name is Grantaire.” Grantaire extended his hand over the table. 

The man gave him a quizzical look, his eyebrow arched. Grantaire still could not believe that this man was real. He had literally never seen a more attractive person in his life. He slowly grasped Grantaire’s hand in his own, and Grantaire could swallow his heart. “I’m Enjolras.” His voice was lyrical, but it had a strength behind it that made him tingle. And of course this vision had the most pretentious name he’d ever heard. 

“Hello Enjolras. I assure you I am a completely normal person. I’m an artist, and I wanted to ask you if it would be okay to sketch you. You just would make an interesting subject. Sorry I went about it the completely awkward way. I’m just running on fumes at this point, and now I am rambling and you’re kind of smiling now so I’m going to stop and let you answer.” Grantaire shut his mouth with a click, his face hot. He definitely had more to say, but it took all of his self-restraint not to keep babbling. 

Enjolras had a half-smile on his face, and it was endearing. So much so that a part of Grantaire went soft inside.  _Uh oh_. “How about you buy me a drink first? I just finished.” 

“Sure thing. Right away. I will buy you every drink if necessary.” Grantaire answered quickly, almost falling over the words in a rush to get them out. Honestly, he was surprised he could even answer when all he wanted to do was sit there and watch all of the expressions that played over Enjolras’ face, trying to capture them all. Enjolras had a very expressive face. 

Enjolras broke into a smile, and it warmed Grantaire down to his very bones. “Have a seat,” Enjolras said. And Grantaire did. It began to snow outside, but neither of them noticed. Grantaire felt an ember in his heart glow for the first time in years, and he smiled across the table at Enjolras. It felt like a new inspiration and a whole new beginning. 

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the song by Lord Huron. Come say hi on [tumblr](http://pucks-and-pies.tumblr.com) or on my [Les Mis blog](http://permets-tu-not-permettez-vous.tumblr.com).


End file.
